On my way home from work yesterday, I decided it was worth five minutes' hot and sticky trudge along horrible Marylebone Road, thundering with traffic ...
To find myself among the roses in Queen Mary's Rose Garden
On a comfortable bench
With a cup of tea and a slice of Bakewell tart
Reading a chapter or two of Virginia Woolf
And thinking what a lovely way to end the day.
Which is pretty much what I was doing this time last year and the year before.
Sorry to be so predictable.
But I still love roses the colour of sherbet oranges.